


Landscapes Painted in Orange

by panaceaa



Category: South Park
Genre: Falling In Love, Growing Up, M/M, sp k2 week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa
Summary: In the pursuit of freedom and a better life, Kyle dreams of running away while Kenny escapes by drawing everything that exists within his wildest imagination. Put them together and you have one big dream that can only be truly understood between the two of them.





	1. Playing

_-Age 10-_

The sun is setting over Stark’s Pond.

The sky is bathed in a deep orange, a color so striking that it takes Kyle’s breath away. It reflects off the surface of the lake, all multicolored shades with a burst of light landing dead center. Little rivulets of water morphing the sky into something distorted yet beautiful. Sitting beyond the flat surface of the lake’s water lies the line of trees blocking the rest of the world from sight. A horizon hidden beyond nature’s giants. Green leafed canopies enveloping whatever the light was unable to reach in shadow.

“Dude, what the hell are you looking at?”

Kyle shakes his head. “Nothing,” he tells him, turning away from the lake and all that lies beyond it.

Stan gives him an odd look, but doesn’t press. From the distance, Kyle can make out the forms of Cartman and Butters walking over to meet them; Butters in his paladin costume and Cartman in his wizard outfit. Instinctively, Kyle reaches up and adjusts his branch crown, thoughts immediately flying to his own costume.

That is until another thought strikes him.

Looking at their little ragtag group, Kyle watches as Cartman and Stan exchange quips as to the reason why they’d had to wait at the pond so long for him and Butters to show up. Kyle would be inclined to join Stan, except for the fact he was just happy to have had an excuse to be away from his house and annoying parents for a bit longer. Butters hovers over to the side with a distinct guilty expression, as if it was his fault that the fatass was a giant asshole.

But none of that is what caught his attention. Instead, Kyle’s gaze flickers to the side, looking to a spot that should have been filled with their orange blob of a friend.

“Where’s Kenny?” He asks them.

Stan and Cartman immediately stop their bickering, and everyone looks at Kyle as if surprised at his question like they hadn’t even noticed, or possibly hadn’t found Kenny’s absence all that unusual in the first place.

When _was_ the last time Kenny had hung out with them?

Butters speaks up first.

“Aw gee I dunno,” he says, guilty expression still plastered across his face, “it sure has been a while since he went and played with us, huh?”

With a roll of his eyes, Cartman immediately replies, “Kinny’s probably just busy begging for more food stamps.”

“Quiet, Cartman!”

At his words Cartman immediately focuses his glare on Kyle, but before he can start yet another fight, Stan speaks up.

“Dude, we need a princess.”

Kyle and Butters both nod in agreement. After all, you couldn’t have two warring kingdoms and no princess. All the cool medieval stories had at least one.

Cartman makes a face before shooting a pointed look in Butters’ direction. “Butters, you’re the princess now.”

“Well gee Eric, but I thought I was the paladin?”

Likely knowing the idiotic argument that was about to start, Stan pinches the bridge of his nose and quickly says, “Can’t someone just go find Kenny and tell him to get his ass over here?”

They all look at each other. Kenny’s house was all the way on the other side of town and the snow was annoyingly deep this time of year. Trudging their way to Stark's Pond in the first place was exhausting, which now that he thought of it probably explained why the fatass took so long getting there.

“Can’t we just text him?” Kyle asks.

“His parents couldn’t afford the phone bill,” Stan answers him. “Remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Kyle turns to Cartman. “You could use the exercise fatass, you go get him.”

“Screw you, Kahl!”

“Fellas,” Butters pipes up, “maybe the princess needs rescuin’ and one of us should go and save her. Maybe she’ll even give one of us a kiss!”

For a moment everyone is silent as they stare at him.

“Goddammit Butters,” Cartman eventually mutters under his breath.

Leave it to Butters to make playing fantasy totally gay.

“Forget it,” Kyle says dryly, suddenly finding this discussion a giant waste of time. “I’m just gonna go.”

“But Kyle, you’re the king-”

“Nope, too late.” Kyle cuts Butters off as he spins on his heel away from his friends. “Already going.”

And with that Kyle begins making his way across town towards the McCormick household, trudging onward as his feet crunch on the snow that drenched the world in stark white. As his friends and Stark's Pond fade into the distance, he shivers against the slight chill in the winter air and pulls his robe a bit tighter around him. He never really did like winter, it was always freezing and the snow was only fun for so long before it got old.

As he walks his mind starts drifting places.

Staring down at his robe and costumed feet, it’s not long before he finds himself pretending that he’s a lost king journeying across the land. Steps sinking into the snow and taking him across an arctic wasteland that would lead him to sights previously unknown. A grand and epic journey. And at the end of that journey was…

He stops and stares across the tracks at the McCormick house, the trek across town apparently not being as bad as he had previously thought.

...Kenny?

He scoffs.

Butters just had to go and put stupid ideas in his head.

With a shake of his head as if to clear it, he makes his way towards the tracks. The very same tracks that he could always see from his bedroom window. They stood out harshly against the white blanket of snow, serving as a kind of divide that separated his side of town with Kenny’s side. He curls his nose up as he steps over it.

Once he reaches the McCormick house, he gives the old beat up door a few knocks before stepping back to wait.

Kenny’s mom answers the door not a moment later.

“Is Kenny home?” Kyle asks immediately upon seeing her.

“Yeah, he’s innis' room.” She opens the door wider in a clear invitation for Kyle to come in, which he quickly does. Walking through the door and getting a full view of the place the McCormick’s called home.

For as long as he could remember, the McCormick house had always been a bit of a falling apart mess of a place. Some might not even consider it a house really. It had four walls, and a ceiling, but there were so many giant holes dispersed within both that the place was no warmer than the air outside. It was no wonder really that Kenny had gotten used to wearing his parka indoors. At least there was a break in the constant wind, that was at least something.

With a quick polite smile aimed at Mrs.McCormick, Kyle makes his way through the house towards Kenny’s room. However, the moment he reaches his friend’s open door his steps immediately falter to a stop at the sight before him. He stands there frozen, blinking in surprise.

Kenny’s laying across his bedroom floor with a box of crayons and a small stack of paper. He’s in the middle of drawing some sort of scenery when he seems to finally register the presence of someone gawking at his door, and looks up to see Kyle. For a moment, Kenny seems slightly embarrassed at having been caught, hand stopping its motion and stiffening as if afraid Kyle might laugh. But when the redhead doesn’t immediately break out into laughter, he just reaches up to tighten the strings of his parka’s hood and mutters a muffled, “Hey, dude.”

Then he goes back to drawing.

It takes Kyle a few moments to get past his initial surprise before he can speak. He’s not really even sure why finding Kenny like this leaves him so shaken. It was likely a correlation between his ultimate assumption that he had everything in the world figured out, especially his simplistic seeming orange parka wearing friend who liked to follow them around and giggle over dirty jokes. Or maybe it had something to do with Kenny’s immediate reaction, as if he was doing something strangely private that he would never tell anyone about.

“I didn’t know you liked to draw,” he manages after a moment.

Kenny shrugs without looking up at him.

Slowly, Kyle enters the room in order to get a clearer view of his picture.

He’s greeted by the sight of a landscape. The top of the page colored in shades of bright orange, while the bottom half was an array of darker blue hues. A lake and a sunset.

A scene that is stunningly close to the view Kyle had been admiring earlier.

Something twists within his gut that he can’t quite identify and he swallows thickly.

Meanwhile, Kenny is rigid as Kyle stands hovering over him. He looks up at Kyle a bit strangely.

“Did you uh, need something?” He asks, not unkindly; although, a bit of apprehension slips into his muffled tone.

“Oh, right.” Kyle does his best to shake himself out of it and keep his tone casual as he goes to say the real reason he was there. “We’re playing fantasy again and we need you to be the princess.”

Kenny looks at him for a few more moments before he turns his head back towards his drawing. “Nuh-uh.”

“What? Why not?”

“Don’t really feel like playing.”

His tone is quiet yet resolved. Shoulders hunching a tiny amount and avoiding his eyes.

“Oh,” Kyle says quietly.

And with that, Kyle settles down on the floor beside him. Kenny seems surprised at his action, but doesn’t say anything. Just returns to adding a slightly darker shade of orange into the sky. Peering even closer at the paper, Kyle notices little nuances of detail that couldn’t be seen from a distance. Puffs of white snow lining the lake, and little streaks of shading. Shadows interlaced within the bigger picture, hidden under the much more prevalent orange sky.

“You’re a really good artist, dude.”

Kenny freezes before looking up at him as if stunned, and for a moment Kyle swears he sees a faint flush of color on his cheeks. But that wouldn’t make sense. Kenny never blushed.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, muffled voice almost getting drowned out within the fabric of his parka.

“Do you draw a lot?”

Kenny nods. “Yeah.” He stops there, looking as if he had more to say but wasn’t sure if Kyle would want to hear it. Or maybe he was just waiting for the moment Kyle would finally grow bored and leave.

He doesn’t.

And after the two fall into a comfortable silence for a bit, Kenny finally speaks again. “It’s like...an escape,” he explains, tone just as soft as it had been before, to the point that Kyle has to lean in a little closer just to make out his words. “This town sucks most of the time, but it’s nice to think that there’s something better out there. Perfect worlds and all that. When drawing, you can put that down on paper and make it a bit more than imaginary.”

Kyle sits there stunned. The words resonating with something deep within him, something he’d never known how to voice or put into words. Swallowing a lump in his throat he asks, “Can you show me more of them?”

Kenny seems to hesitate for a moment, meeting Kyle’s eyes as if searching for something. Sky blue meeting unwavering green. Whatever he’s looking for he must find, because a moment later he gives a quick nod and rises to his feet.

Kyle watches as he digs around in his closet before finally pulling out a stack of papers that had been hidden under what looked like a pile of clothes. Without a word, Kenny brings them over and hands them to Kyle before sitting back down on the ground beside him. He watches as Kyle immediately begins slowly flipping through the pile of pictures in silence. It’s something like peering into his soul. Something so indescribably sad and beautiful that it takes Kyle’s breath away. There are drawings of flowers and princesses sitting high up in castles, intermingled with pictures of shadows standing among angels and blood covered sidewalks.

Somewhere down the line, Kyle’s eyes grow blurry with tears and he’s not even really sure why.

“Kenny, these are beautiful,” he chokes.

His words must be the right thing to say because Kenny’s eyes light up in a way that suggests that he’s smiling. “Thanks,” he tells him.

Kyle finally stops flipping through the pile and takes a moment to blink away tears, thankful that Kenny doesn’t comment on it. He looks over at him and softly asks, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Kenny hesitates.

“I don’t let people know me.” He says eventually, sneaking a glance at him through blond lashes. “But if they’d stick around I’m sure they’d figure something out.”

For the first time since the initial shock of seeing him drawing, Kyle is struck with the thought that maybe he’d never really known Kenny McCormick at all. That maybe no one did. That maybe this moment, right here, marked the first time he’d ever let a part of himself be seen.

“Is that what this is?” Kyle voices, looking back down at the pile of drawings still sitting in his lap.

Kenny just gives a small shrug. “Maybe.”

“Do you have any more?”

At his question he’s rewarded with the rise of his cheeks speaking of a hidden smile, even as Kenny shakes his head.“That’s all I have,” he tells him almost regretfully. Although a moment later his eyes light up with something that might be hope. “But if you want to come over in a day or two I might have some more done.”

“Okay,” Kyle says, quickly and without an ounce of hesitation, and the beaming look he gets in response is one of the brightest he’s ever seen. From the window behind Kenny’s head, Kyle can see that the orange of the sky is beginning to fade into the first signs of night. His smile slightly falls. “I should probably get back to the guys.”

Kenny nods in understanding.

And so, after standing and gently placing the pile of drawings on the ground in front of him, Kyle goes to leave.

He’s stopped by a muffled voice.

“Wait, Kyle!” Kyle turns to see Kenny hurrying to his feet behind him. At his confused look, the blond offers him a wink of a single sparkling blue eye and says, “Just give me a minute to put on my dress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my contribution to K2 week, which means that each chapter will be following the day's theme and I will be updating every day until it's complete. That being said, these will not be stand-alone oneshots and will be following a continuous plotline :)


	2. Rebel

_-Age 12-_

It’s a long trip out his widow and down the side of his house.

When he’d planned it all out in his head it had seemed easy enough, yet under the cover of darkness and with no prior experience of breaking out of his room, getting down is a bit harder than he’d anticipated. What results is a few muttered curses, a banged elbow, and one near-death experience.

Still, he manages it.

And afterward, chest heaving and standing under the stars, Kyle looks back at his house with a proud little smirk adorning his features. The windows are all still dark, a sure sign that everyone was still sleeping, and thus the first step of his escape was a complete success.

Adjusting the strap of his pack, he turns away from his house and begins making his way down the street without looking back.

He still has a good fifty minutes before the bus would make its first stop of the day, so he’s really not in any particular rush. So he keeps his steps casual and measured, knowing that should anyone spot him they’d be less concerned about some kid who looked to be on a casual stroll then they would be if they’d seen one practically running through the streets while constantly glancing over his shoulder. At least that’s what he figured. In truth, he hadn’t really thought much of this through. It’d been a split second decision, a rebellious thought that’s stricken him in a moment of passion and anger only earlier that night.

He was just tired of it all.

Tired of his parents trying to tell him that everything he wanted was wrong while they attempted to mold him into who they wanted him to be. A million things he couldn’t do, wasn’t _allowed_ to do. Caught within the net of expectations, even with as young as he was.

_“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”_

Well fine, if he was such a damn hassle then he’d just go and leave. Live life on his own terms. The ultimate rebellion. Vanishing in the dead of night.

It was what he always wanted anyway. The thought had never once left his mind. The horizon seeming to call to him, speaking of freedom and escape from this shitty town.

The world was a massive place, and he wanted to see it all.

Not wanting to have to sit at the bus stop for nearly an hour, Kyle ends up making a stop at the park. Settling in on the bench that overlooked the empty playground and removing his heavy pack with a sigh. It’d been years since he had been to the playground, and in the dead of night the pirate ship loomed before him both in nostalgic memory and in a representation of a million possibilities. Pirates were types of travelers, weren’t they? Maybe Ike had a point with all his wanting to be one a few years ago. A thousand undiscovered islands, nothing but the open sea for miles and miles.

Must have been nice.

In truth, although he’d gotten the logistics of it, Kyle still hadn’t thought too much about where he would even go. The bus would be here in forty minutes, and then what? His first destination would probably be Denver, big city and all that. Once he got there he could probably figure things out. He had his birthday money he’d been saving up, almost two hundred dollars, which probably had to be enough to get him started. Maybe he could be like the great travelers, and just start walking. Seeing the world for all that it was and...

His thoughts are cut short as he catches sight of a familiar orange parka-wearing boy making his way over to him.

Kyle has no idea what Kenny is doing out at approximately five in the morning, but he supposes he had always been one to march to the beat of his own drum. A part of him was always enveloped in that little bit of mystery, no matter how much closer the two of them had drifted since they had shared in their appreciation of art and of a better world.

“Hey, Ky,” Kenny’s muffled voice greets him as he crooks his head to the side, “what are you doing out this early?”

“I’m running away.”

He’d left notes for everyone in his bedroom, but he figured that out of everyone, Kenny would understand. He wouldn’t rat him out. Not that he could ever get away with lying to Kenny anyway.

“Oh,” Kenny says simply in response. He looks at Kyle for a moment, blue eyes inspecting him in that knowledgeable way of his, as if he could see right through him. And then he moves to hop up on the bench beside him. “Why do you want to run away?” He asks, swinging his small legs back and forth since they didn’t quite reach the ground.

Kyle sighs, looking down and kicking a stone that was resting by his feet. “It’s just...no one listens to a thing that I say,” he mutters, tone laced with several shades of bitterness. “It’s like I’m not even fucking there sometimes. No one would even fucking care if I disappeared. My parents have Ike who they’re just so damn proud of all the time, and even Stan has Butters and Cartman.”

“And what about me?” Kenny immediately asks softly, causing Kyle to sharply look over at him with a furrowed brow.

“Huh?”

Kenny meets his eyes for just a moment before quickly looking away. Turning his gaze instead to something far off in the starry distance.

“What would I do if you weren’t here?”

His words catch Kyle by surprise. Kenny was first and foremost a drifter, when he wasn’t hanging around with their group he was with Craig’s gang or someone else entirely. What made Kyle so special?

“Everyone likes you Kenny,” he voices, “you don’t need me.”

“You know that’s not true,” Kenny says, tone soft but without an ounce of hesitation. A timbre reminiscent of the way he’d talk about art, eyes flashing with something bright as he leaned into Kyle’s shoulder to reach across and point out something in his latest drawing.

Kyle frowns.

“Believe me,” Kenny continues quietly, voice almost getting lost within the fabric of his parka. “I know what it feels like to think no one would care if you just vanished. But that’s why we gotta stick together.”

“I hate this town, Kenny,” Kyle finally mumbles as a last line of defense. A last portion of truth even as he can feel his resolve weakening, dissolving into dust and ash.

Kenny nods as if he understands.

There is a moment of comfortable silence between them. A moment where they sit side by side on the bench while keeping their gaze trained on the horizon. The sky beginning to ever so subtly lighten, the moon and stars fading as if to make room for the incoming dawn.

The bus would be here soon.

Kyle stays right where he is.

Eventually, Kenny shoots him a look that is all sparkling eyes lined with mischievousness, and Kyle doesn’t even have time to be wary of what that might mean before the blond suddenly rises to his feet and pulls at Kyle’s arm for him to follow.

“What are you doing?” Kyle asks, although he stands up after him anyway.

“I want to show you something,” Kenny says, cheerful tone matching his exuberant expression, “Come on!”

Kenny tugs him forward, practically dragging him behind him for a few steps before he offers him a wink from over his shoulder. Then he releases his hold in order to break out into a near run down the street.

“Kenny!” Kyle curses, hurrying after him.

Kenny leads him across town, giggling the entire way. Only stopping every once in a while to make sure Kyle was still following, and eyes glimmering with mirth as well as a certain mischievousness every time Kyle asked where the hell he was taking him. Of course, he never gives him an answer.

Eventually, the McCormick household comes into sight and Kyle thinks maybe he was just taking him back to his house. Of course, the moment after he thinks he’s figured it out, Kenny veers to the side of his house and comes to a stop directly in front of old Sodosopa. He turns to Kyle with another wink, and then immediately jumps up and latches onto the side of it to pull himself up.

Kyle swears he has a minor heart attack when one of the beams he hangs onto creaks and nearly snaps with his weight, but Kenny doesn’t seem at all concerned. Just grabs another handhold and then boosts himself the final distance. The whole thing only lasts a few seconds, it becoming very apparent that this was in no way Kenny’s first time doing this, the blond moving with the grace and confidence born from practice.

It didn’t make Kyle feel any better about it though.

“Kenny, what are you doing?!” He shouts, looking at Kenny standing at the edge of the towering building in a near panic. “Get down from there, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Relax, Ky.” His eyes sparkle as he looks down at him. Moving back to the spot he’d come up, he reaches out with a purposeful hand. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Kyle mutters a few choice words under his breath, but finds himself going up to meet him anyway.

He follows the same footholds that Kenny had used, grumbling to himself the whole way as Kenny laughs at him from up top. But despite his prior observation everything remains sturdy under his weight, and at the end Kyle reaches up to grab Kenny’s outstretched hand, taking notice of how strong the blond is for his size as he easily pulls him the final distance up.

“So, are you gonna tell me now why-“

But Kyle’s words die in his throat.

Kenny shoots him a knowing look. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”

Beautiful is an understatement.

From the height they were at half the town could be seen. The view stretching even beyond the town, to roads that went on past the trees and met the line of the now rising sun. Stars and moon still visible, but just barely through the curtain of the incoming dawn.

It’s awe-inspiring. A view of the town that he’d only ever seen as shitty, suddenly gaining new beauty. But that wasn’t the only thing that was given new light.

Kenny stands beside him, looking out at the town from Sodosopa and suddenly Kyle can’t seem to tear his eyes from his face. The wind slightly ruffling the bit of hair peeking out from under the hood of his parka. His eyes two vivid sparks of blue, the one true window to all of the emotions he was unable to hide.

Catching his gaze, Kenny gives him sort of an odd look, yet Kyle can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed at having been caught staring. As their eyes meet, a book of different emotions flickers through the small blond’s eyes, faster than Kyle can figure out, before he tilts his head almost as if he was considering something. Then, reaching up, he pulls the fabric of his parka covering his mouth down, and gives Kyle a wide and unobstructed smile.

Kyle’s breath catches.

“You know,” Kenny says, voice unmuffled and grin tilting into a smaller one that was almost shy, “maybe I could come with you. When you finally leave, I mean.” His smile falls a bit more. “You’d have to wait a bit, though.”

It takes Kyle a moment to respond.

Without the hood, Kenny’s voice is almost musical in quality. And paired with the ground below them and the horizon coloring the world beyond his head, Kyle finds himself thinking about angels. He pictures Kenny with large white wings and finds the mental image strangely fitting.

“I can wait,” he breathes out finally.

“Okay,” Kenny says, expression bordering on fond, “we’ll go together then.”

And thus starts the beginning of a dream.


	3. Sleepover

_-Age 14-_

Kyle wakes up to the sound of knocking at his window.

It’s late at night, the clock on his bedside table reading about a quarter past three in the morning. Or in other words, way too early for Kyle to be suddenly sitting up in his bed with his heart pounding. Of course, his immediate reaction is to start grumbling a few choice words under his breath, because he’s almost positive that it must be Cartman just coming to annoy him or something. Throwing his legs over the side of his bed, Kyle marches over to the window.

Although to his immediate horror, it’s not Cartman who he sees peering in from the other side of the glass.

“Kenny!” He curses and hurries over to his window, nearly bending his index finger backward in his panicked haste to get the damned thing open. Once he does he immediately reaches his arms out to help Kenny, who stumbles inside as if in a daze. He’s soaked to the bone and his parka, as well as his hair, and every visible patch of skin is caked with dead leaves and dried blood.

Kyle is on him in a second, patting him down and checking him over for any gaping injuries. Running his hands across his shoulders, down his arms, and around his waist with as much proficiency as he can manage. His hands get crusted with dried blood in the process, some of the particles drifting to his carpet like dust, but despite his efforts he finds nothing that would offer any sort of explanation.

“Kenny?” He chokes, running a hand through dirty and bloody matted hair for any fractures. “What happened?”

But Kenny doesn’t answer, just stands there as if he hadn’t even heard him. As if he was trapped somewhere within his own mind.

Kyle pauses in his fussing, realizing that if there was any type of injury then it had have been hidden under his parka. “Are you hurt?” He attempts asking him, looking him in the eye for the first time since he stumbled through his window. In doing so, he realizes with a prick of real fear that the normally vibrant blue was turned to a dull and lifeless hue.

At the question, Kenny just blinks at him in confusion. Almost as if he can’t remember.

Fear now rapidly churning within his gut, Kyle does what he does best when he’s unsure of something and quickly formulates a quick step by step plan. First plan of action: get the parka off to make sure that Kenny’s not injured.

With that thought in mind, Kyle takes his hand and leads him through the hallway and to the bathroom.

Once there he locks the door, before once again turning his attention to Kenny. With shaking fingers, he unzips his parka and pushes the filthy thing from his shoulders.

As he soon discovers, although he appeared to be strikingly nothing more than skin and bone, Kenny is remarkably unmarked. No sign of any visible injury. And for the first time a dark thought strikes Kyle as his hands slowly slide away from the motionless blond’s shoulders.

“Kenny...is this someone else’s blood?

To his immediate relief, Kenny shakes his head and speaks for the first time since he got there. “Nuh-uh,” he croaks.

Kyle takes a deep breath.

“Okay.” He instinctively goes to run a hand through his hair only to catch the sight of old blood still lining the creases of his palm and drops it lifelessly back down to his side. “Okay,” he repeats. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

Kenny gives a barely noticeable nod, but it’s enough of a confirmation.

And so, Kyle turns and steps over towards the bath. Sitting down on the edge and turning the handle, he watches as the water slowly fills the tub. He can feel his cheeks heating up as he stares into the bath water, hearing the distinct sound of clothing hitting the floor behind him. In response, he turns his body a little more towards the water. Why was he even still in here? Kenny probably could have taken care of this himself.

...And for that matter, why hasn’t Kenny kicked him out yet?

He frowns at the little rivulets of water as he runs his hand under the surface to check the temperature. There are so many questions he needs to ask, yet he can’t really find the words to say them.

One step at a time.

Get Kenny cleaned up and then he would worry about everything else. He just needed to focus on the task at hand.

With the bath now decently filled, Kyle turns the water off but allows his hand to linger on the handle for a few moments after it’s stopped.

He takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” he says with false confidence, as he turns away from the bath and towards Kenny while making sure to keep his gaze eye-level. “So, you get in the bath and I’ll be right back.” His tone comes out a bit higher pitched than he’d like, and when Kenny doesn’t say anything he turns his attention to the pile of clothes on the floor. Gathering them hurriedly into his arms he finishes with a quick, “I’m just...going to go throw these in the wash.”

Kenny just nods, but right before he runs out he swears he sees a spark of amusement flash through the dull blue of his eyes.

By the time he returns, Kenny is sitting in the bathtub staring at the wall with a vacant expression, the water around him colored a deep red. He looks up at Kyle when he enters, watches as he closes the door gently behind him and then leans back against it. On the counter beside him, Kyle places a set of his pajamas and a towel for when he was finished, before looking back at him and biting his lip.

“You’re sure you’re not injured?” He asks gently, not knowing what else to say and needing to make sure.

Kenny shakes his head no.

“...Did you want to talk about it?”

Kenny shakes his head no again.

Kyle hesitates, seeing that the blond clearly wasn’t in the mood for talking, and completely unsure of if he should stay or not. Ultimately, he decides to give him his privacy.

“Come into my room as soon as you’re done, okay?”

As soon as he says the words, Kenny shoots him a half panicked look. The sudden show of emotion startling to say the least; however, before Kyle can make any sense of it, the blond slowly nods and then goes back to staring at the wall.

As if dismissed, Kyle quickly retreats to his room.

Once there, Kyle passes the time by pacing back and forth, thoughts running through his head a mile a minute. He wonders if he should go back and check on Kenny, but more than anything he wonders what had happened to him.

Although...there was one possibility that had crossed his mind.

Kenny had mentioned his frequent deaths once, almost in passing. In a way that suggested he’d already given up on anyone believing him. Which made sense, it was a difficult thing to even grasp, something that held absolutely no logic. But Kyle knew Kenny. Knew him enough to know that he wasn’t joking. So even if it wasn't true, Kenny at least seemed to believe that it was. And that right there was enough for Kyle not to outright deny it as a possibility, neither confirming or denying his belief to Kenny. Which didn’t really seem to matter since after that day the blond had never brought it up again.

But now Kyle was suddenly faced with _this_.

He really didn’t know what to think.

By the time Kenny makes his way back into his room, Kyle is sitting up in his bed with a million thoughts running through his mind. He looks up as he enters, hands continuing to nervously fiddle with the sheets nestled around his lap.

Kenny stands in the middle of his room, looking tiny and more than a little lost. The clothes Kyle gave him are practically swimming on him, the shirt dropping to about mid-thigh and the pants trailing on the ground. He’d always known that Kenny was small, but he hadn’t really realized the extent of it until now.

Swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, Kyle makes a vague gesture to the small open space beside him on the bed.

“Here, you can um…”

He trails off with a flush, suddenly afraid that Kenny might not be comfortable sharing a bed with him.

But Kenny just nods and then makes his way across the room and sides onto the mattress beside him. Not an ounce of hesitation.

For a moment Kyle’s afraid to move. Kenny might be small, but his bed is only a twin and thereby made for one teenage boy, not two. He can practically feel Kenny’s warmth since he’s laying so close to him, and the thought occurs that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

But then Kenny turns around to face him.

His eyes aren’t as haunted as they were before, but they’re still not back to their normal liveliness. Still, Kenny smiles at him weakly, the same kind of smile he’d wear when he’d first started removing his hood while the two of them were alone. Small and a little unsure, but trusting.

And he realizes that he was being stupid. This was _Kenny_ he was talking about.

Everything was always easy and natural with him, so this should be no different. There had always been a certain intimacy in his and Kenny’s relationship, something he couldn’t quite explain. Easy and natural in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else. Like sure he loved Stan, but he couldn’t imagine even offering to do something like this with him. Stan was his best friend, but Kenny was...just Kenny. He really didn’t know what to call his relationship with him.

“Are you okay?” Kyle asks him quietly, hoping that he might finally be a little more willing to open up.

Kenny just gives a small shrug.

For a moment Kyle hesitates, wondering if he should maybe bring up what he’d been thinking about earlier. In a split second decision, he decides getting some sort of answer is more important than any skepticism he might have had about the matter.

“Did you die again?”

The minute the words leave his mouth Kenny stiffens. His eyes growing wide, while something flashed bright within them. Something that Kyle had no name for, but that makes his heart skip a beat.

And then, after a small nod of confirmation, Kenny finally breaks.

“Kyle, what am I?” He chokes out, eyes suddenly glassy and tone broken in a way he’d never heard from him before.

Kyle doesn’t know how to answer that question or know if he believes someone can really die over and over again and still be alive. He wants to believe, he really does, but it’s hard. So in lieu of an answer, he just moves closer and settles an arm across his waist. Just lets him know that he’s there and lets Kenny silently cry.

They stay like that for a while, with neither of them saying anything.

“Hey, Ky?” Kenny whispers eventually, once the tears have finally stopped and dried.

“Yeah?”

“When we finally leave, where do you think we’ll go?”

The question catches Kyle off guard, it certainly not being one he was expecting. But there’s something hopeful in the lilt of Kenny’s voice, something that suggests that, in this moment, it’s the most important thing that he could ask.

“I don’t know,” Kyle answers honestly. “Anywhere really. Somewhere far away from here.”

At his words, the corner of Kenny’s lip tilts into the beginnings of a smile. As if the thought is salvation. As if getting out of this town would somehow save him.

Kyle doesn’t know if that’s true, but he has enough faith in his heart to believe that it might be.

Eventually, Kenny relaxes and his breathing slows as he finally finds sleep. Kyle watches him for a bit, eyelids heavy yet unable to stop himself from thinking. Head running through everything that had happened, both on this night and on nights before. Of drawings of distant worlds, and a smile directed towards an infinite orange horizon.

“We’re gonna get out of here Kenny,” he tells the sleeping blond eventually, “I promise.”

The next morning Kyle wakes up alone. The slight indentation on the mattress beside him the only sign that there had been someone beside him the night before.

But he doesn’t forget.


	4. Reading

_-Age 16-_

Kyle never forgets his promise.

It is something that is never far from his mind. The desire to travel, to take Kenny and get him as far away from South Park as possible. Helping to save him in the only way he knew how. To finally abandon everything and take that final leap toward freedom.

He doesn’t have to ask Kenny to know that he wants it as much as he does. It’s written in the way his eyes light up whenever Kyle speaks of it, as well as in his art. The pictures he creates of distant places distinctively lacking darker shades and instead seem to glow with the vibrancy of the colors he chooses. As if they mean safety. Something strong and pure for him to believe in.

And his art sure does keep getting better.

For his fifteenth birthday, Kyle gives him a paint set. and from that day on his drawings turn into paintings. Vivid portraits of places that they may someday explore. And he would always present them to Kyle with a brightness in his eyes that never seems to fail to leave him breathless. It’s not long before Kenny’s walls are lined with sceneries that portray things neither of them had ever seen from any window.

One day Kyle suggests that they start saving. Collecting a bit of pocket change and earned money to put aside in a big glass jar with “Adventure Fund” written across it in deep black ink.

And so they collect what they can.

Mostly small pocket change interlaced with the occasional twenty or so that Kyle would manage to scrounge up. Kenny can’t afford to add much but Kyle doesn’t mind; instead, he tells Kenny that he can make it up to him one day. One day when he becomes a famous artist and makes enough money to buy anything they want. One day once they’re out on the road and his paintings are able to be inspired by actual landscapes and not just from pictures in stupid books.

Kenny never seems fully convinced, but Kyle doesn’t miss the spark of hope that flashes through sky blue eyes when he mentions it. However it does seem to satisfy him. At least enough to bare through Kyle dropping in twenties while he only added the bit of meager change he’d manage to put aside from each week’s shopping run.

And to their credit, as the days turn to weeks, and then those weeks grow into months, their collection of money begins to add up. Looking promising in a way that they’d never really expected. Turning far off dream into something that just might be possible. And with that possibility came Kyle’s insistence that their dream become just a little less vague.

So, they make a checklist. A list with negotiable priority of every place in the world that they could possibly want to go.

A list they make and edit while sitting together in dusty old libraries or on Kyle’s bedroom floor; Kyle flipping through travel books with Kenny reading from over his shoulder. Tales from real modern travelers, and photos taken of real life places. With Kenny leaning in so close that his cheek just barely brushes against his own. His body pressed warmly against his side. Want and longing forging little cobblestone paths of goosebumps along Kyle’s skin, and intrusive thoughts making it harder and harder to ignore the effect that Kenny has on him.

It’s not long before their reading sessions become a study in self-control.

Like the time Kenny readjusted his hand and ended up pushing up Kyle’s shirt just enough for his hand to brush against the soft skin of his waist. The shiver that traveled down Kyle’s spine at the feeling, and then Kenny’s stupid smile he was gifted with after he repeated the action just to see him squirm.

Kyle wasn’t sure how much more his heart could take. It would be so easy during any one of their sessions just to tilt his head slightly to the side and finally press his lips against Kenny’s in the way he’d been dreaming of.

The thought was practically driving him insane.

Kyle is startled from his inner musings by the tormentor himself as Kenny finally turns away from the pile of money spread out across Kyle’s bedroom floor. His eyes sparkling in that way that always made the damn butterflies decide to assault his stomach, and Kyle’s heart skips a beat.

Placing down the book he’d been reading on Greece, Kyle asks him, “How much do we have?”

“We just hit five hundred,” Kenny answers proudly. “And dude, you haven’t even gotten a job yet. At this rate we’re gonna have enough to leave by the time we’re eighteen.” He practically bounces to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. Then after throwing Kyle another wide grin he adds, “And I still managed to keep up with Karen’s college fund.”

“Just two more years,” Kyle says almost dreamily, looking up at Kenny as the blond walks over toward him.

“Then we can finally leave all of this behind.” Kenny plops down on the ground beside him. “Think you’ll have a car by then?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Kenny gives him a lopsided grin. That same grin that somehow always managed to make his knees weak. A particularly unguarded tilt of the lips that he’d never seen Kenny show anyone but him.

Kyle swallows thickly.

And suddenly, with the knowledge that their journey was within arms reach, fragmented scenes of real possibilities hit Kyle like a semi-truck. The truth that he had never really considered before. A world of things that he’d rather not think about, yet for the first time Kyle finds himself realizing exactly what traveling with Kenny would mean.

How what he considered bad now would only grow worse.

Days spent walking side by side down unfamiliar streets, Kenny ogling large breasted girls while Kyle could only focus on the way his hand would occasionally brush his own. The two of them receiving knowing looks when together they would rent a single hotel room, and the spike of hurt he’d get when Kenny just laughed it off as he did most things. Imagines late nights sleeping in those silent hotel rooms or in the cramped space of the car. Starlit nights with Kenny only inches away, yet always somehow out of reach. The words he wanted so desperately to say always sitting on the tip of his tongue, yet never finding the right moment to say them.

Of always fearing that he could ruin everything. Could end up destroying the most important thing he had in his life.

“Ky, what’s wrong?” Kenny says, tone filled with concern. Likely picking up on the somber switch in Kyle’s mood.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on,” he prods gently, bumping his shoulder against his. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Kyle hesitates and Kenny gives him an encouraging smile. His gaze lingers on those lips for several heartbeats, the rhythmic pounding of his heart stammering in its beat. Here it is. His chance to say what’s been on his mind for months now. His chance to explain exactly what has been keeping him up at night and what has been prompting his attempt to put just a bit more space between them. A safeguard. A distance meant for his own sanity, as much as a weak attempt that it was. Yet, despite knowing what he should say, Kyle finds himself completely speechless.

So naturally, he does the most logically illogical thing he’s ever done.

Reaching over to gently cup Kenny’s jaw, he tilts his head up and kisses him.

It doesn’t last long. Just a moment. A brief moment where he gets a taste of what it feels like to have Kenny’s lips pressing softly and warmly against his. A moment where Kyle keeps his eyes tightly shut as he takes all he can of the feeling, knowing he’ll probably never get the chance again. That this is all that Kenny will ever allow him, and the second the kiss ends then it’ll be over. He does all he can to commit the feeling to memory.

Then he pulls back, just as suddenly as he had leaned in.

“That’s what’s wrong,” he says softly as soon as they part, gazing down at his lap. “I want to do that all the time.”

He’s preparing for rejection. Disgust maybe. The end of a friendship that had been the most precious and natural thing in his life.

What he’s not expecting are the next words that come out of Kenny’s mouth.

“Well, I’d be alright with that.”

He says the words softly and with a small little smile, and Kyle is suddenly unable to move. His thoughts run wild, trying to make sense of his words. Kenny wasn’t freaked out by the idea of them together? Kenny who had some weird obsession with boobs and playboy magazines? Kenny who was bright and beautiful in a thousand different ways and could probably do a million times better for himself then some boring redhead with anger issues. The thought occurs to him that maybe Kenny felt obligated. That maybe he felt as if he owed him something, like the way he felt with the jar and the coins he would shamefully put in.

Staring down at his lap, Kyle watches as he tightens his own hands into fists.

“You don’t have to force yourself to be with me, I-“

“Kyle, stop.” Kenny quickly cuts him off, looking at him as if he’d gone insane. When Kyle immediately halts his words in favor of an expression that was probably just as resigned as he felt, Kenny’s expression softens. “I want to.”

His tone is as soft and fond as his expression, and filled with conviction. It makes Kyle’s throat go dry. Makes him believe that he really wants this just as much as he does.

“Oh,” Kyle breathes.

Their eyes connect, vivid blue meeting apple green, and as if following a magnetic pull they both slowly lean in. They pause. Barely a fraction of space between them, close enough to feel each other’s breath on their lips, before Kenny takes the initiative and closes the final bit of distance.

It’s Kyle’s first real kiss, or well second, if counting the brief liplock he’d shared with Kenny only a few moments prior. He’s not sure what Kenny’s kissing experience is really like, nor does he have anything to compare it to, but what he does know is that kissing Kenny might just be his new favorite thing in the world.

He hadn’t realized that lips could be so sensitive. That the warm yet indescribable taste of Kenny’s mouth could be so appealing. So addicting. That the slick slip of a tongue could cause him to want to press even closer, or spark the shiver that runs straight down his spine like an electric current.

They’re both breathless when they pull away. Eyes connecting, they match each other’s smile, something so utterly happy that it borders on giddy.

Then not even a moment later, they’re diving right back in again.

And again.

And then again.

And as it turns out, their first kiss is one that opens the door to countless others.

Like the one they share the next day. Trading open mouthed kisses on top of suddenly very crinkled papers and other art supplies. The paint quickly covering them both and causing Kenny to look like the world’s greatest masterpiece.

Or a bit later when they’re making out in Kyle’s room with travel books strewn around them; words and images within the pages forgotten in the light of each other.

Or a few weeks later when Kyle has him pressed up against the map of the world that they had pasted up on Kyle’s bedroom wall. With Kyle’s hand hovering somewhere close to Australia and Kenny’s head hiding all of Europe.

Kyle has never been more in love.


	5. Danger

_-Age 18-_

Sometimes love caused people to make hard choices.

Caused people to do things they’d never thought they do, with ramifications that they feared with all the strength of claws grasping at their heart.

“I’m going away to college,” Kyle tells Kenny without preamble, speaking the words as if they were a death sentence. In a way they were. They signified the final admittance of a death of a dream.

They were both eighteen now, with a large jar of money that was supposed to be their ticket out of there. Instead, now his parents had dragged him into reality and convinced him that the only place he would be going was to a college dorm. To law school. That was his future.

Kenny nods from his spot where he’s sitting on Kyle’s bedroom floor. He smiles weakly. Smiles as if he can’t possibly be happy about it, but yet he understands. As if he had the suspicion that this was going to be what happened all along, and he’d only been lying to himself to have ever believed otherwise. This was just the confirmation.

“You can travel while I’m gone,” Kyle adds hopefully after Kenny doesn’t actually say anything. Hopeful that Kenny might go out and live their dream for the both of them. That he might finally find the escape that he’d been longing for in each and every paint stroke, even if it had to be without Kyle.

It’s a moot hope.

“I’m not going without you, Ky.”

“But-”

“There will still be time after you graduate,” he quickly cuts him off as if his decision has already been made and there will be no convincing him otherwise. He gives Kyle a smile, something he imagines is supposed to be reassuring, but instead only comes out sad and resigned. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he doesn’t even believe his own words. Four more years. The amount of things that would change in four years. Student loans piled up with only a degree to show for it, and then to immediately turn around and run away like they’d planned to do at eighteen? As if nothing had changed? It would just never happen.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” Kenny adds after Kyle remains silent for a bit, saying the words in a way that suggests they’re supposed to be comforting; however, to Kyle they have the opposite effect.

A sudden thought hits him that sends him reeling. That causes him to swallow the lump in his throat before muttering out a single quiet word.

“Okay.”

***

When Kyle was a kid, he used to be afraid of monsters. Giant crawling things that would hide in the dark corners of his room so that they would jump out and eat him. Now he knew differently. Now he knew that monsters didn’t really exist. No. At least not the three headed kind. In reality the most dangerous thing in life was no snarling beast hiding in the shadows, but instead was something else entirely.

The real danger was a possibility. A chance. A likelihood to be _in_ danger of _something_. Of falling in love a little too hard. Of taking a step into reality and dragging Kenny along with him.

Of being the one that made him give up on his dream.

That small little smile Kenny always got whenever Kyle brought up college was dangerous. The smile that told him that the person he loved more than anything, who had so much potential, would just sit back and wait for him to come back. Would stay behind in South Park while Kyle went off to college. Would abandon his dream until it faded away into nothing, as if it were made of smoke and ash.

And Kyle knew of only one thing that could change his mind.

“You want this full amount in cash?” The bank teller gives him a suspicious look, probably used to people depositing large sums of money instead of walking off with it.

“Yeah,” Kyle responds. “In hundreds and twenties would be preferable.”

The bank teller gives him another look, but complies. And afterwards, Kyle walks over to Kenny who’d been waiting for him by the exit ever since they dumped its contents into the change counter, the now empty jar sitting in his hands. With a small smile in response to Kenny’s excited and questioning look, Kyle promptly takes the jar in exchange for the thick envelope he was carrying.

“That one’s yours,” Kyle tells him, watching as Kenny’s eyes immediately grow wide at seeing the wad of large bills that were stuffed inside. In truth, even Kyle had been surprised at that amount that they had managed to collect. It had gotten too overwhelming to count after a while, so until today they could only guess as to how much was actually in there.

Of course, it wasn’t as much as Kenny now thought it was, and Kyle hoped he wouldn’t figure that out.

“It was more than we thought,” Kyle tells him.

“Where’s your half?” Kenny says shooting him a look, a shade of suspicion lining his gaze.

“In my wallet,” Kyle lies. “Now come on,” he says quickly tugging the blond along to escape further questioning. “You know how pissy Stan gets when we make him wait.”

***

A few weeks later, Kyle is sitting with Kenny in front of Stark’s Pond.

The sky is painted the deep orange color of sunset. The color reflected in the surface of the water, displaying a shadowy horizon that he’d seen Kenny paint numerous times over the years. And as he stares out at the horizon, his mind keeps flickering to a few nights ago just as it’d had the tendency of doing ever since it happened. The moment never far from his mind. That final kiss that had felt far too much like goodbye.

Kenny sits beside him silently. Neither of them has spoken in a while, but yet again that wasn’t all that unusual for them. He hadn’t asked any questions when Kyle had asked him to come here, just probably assumed that Kyle had his reasons. And he did. Because this place, with the familiar orange sky and landscape that had stayed the same as they grew older, would be the one thing that would comfort him when all was said and done. The thing that would take him back to the beginning and remind him of exactly what he wanted to do.

Kenny wanted to leave. Salvation ringing true within his paintings. Karen and his family would be okay, he’d made sure of that. Every step he’d made over the years had been banking on him leaving right about now, like they both should have been if Kyle’s parents hadn’t thrown him headfirst into the realm of reality. And now, everything all pointed to one thing. One outcome that had to be done to make sure Kenny had the best possible future, even if Kyle had to hurt him to do it. Even if he had to hurt them both. Because there was only one thing stopping Kenny from leaving. Much in the same way there had only been one thing stopping Kyle from leaving all those years ago.

Cut that tie and he would be free.

_Breaking the kiss, Kyle takes a moment and just leans his forehead against his. Squinching his eyes shut and allowing silent tears to run down his face._

_“Ky, baby, what’s wrong?”_

_Kyle doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he just breathes him in, relishing in their closeness for a few beats of his pounding heart. Then he opens his mouth as if to speak._

“I think we should break up.”

As soon as Kenny hears the words he stiffens beside him. He doesn’t turn to face him right away, just keeps his gaze trained on the lake as Kyle watches him finally inhale a shaky breath.

“...What?” He chokes, finally turning to look at him, expression a painful mix of disbelief and hurt. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have laughed Kyle’s abruptly said words off. They’d been happy after all. They _were_ happy. Yet, it was plainly obvious that Kenny had suspected something was wrong for a while, just wasn’t sure exactly what. Still, Kyle was sure he hadn’t been expecting this.

When Kyle speaks, he does all that he can to avoid Kenny’s eyes and keep his tone neutral. He’d practiced this maybe a hundred times, it was still the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“I’m going to be going off to college and I don’t really want to do a long distance relationship.” A pause. One single deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Kenny just shakes his head as if he isn’t quite making sense. “Where is this coming from?”

“I can’t pretend that this is going to work out when it clearly isn’t,” Kyle says, looking down at the snow and pretending he was just practicing by himself again. Rehearsing a damn speech. “It was fun for a while, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that we’re both going different places.”

“I don’t understand,” Kenny says softly, still trying to find an answer for something he hadn’t seen coming. Fighting back hurt in the search for an explanation. Something he could fix. “Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?”

Kyle bites down hard on his tongue. Of course he wouldn’t make this easy.

And the absolute worst part about this all was that if he were to tell him the truth, Kyle knew Kenny would understand. Would understand why he had to do what he did, and with a few choice words would be able to convince him to change his mind.

Kyle couldn’t risk that.

So instead, Kyle steels himself for the one thing he’d hoped desperately he wouldn’t have to say. But now it was apparent that it was the only thing that would get Kenny to go. To give up all hope on Kyle. To forget about him.

To live his dream.

“Look,” Kyle says, finally looking Kenny in the eye, a sky of glistening blue, and fights down a wave of nausea. He was doing this for him. It’s all he kept reminding himself. “I didn’t want to have to say this, but I never loved you, not really. I knew you had a thing for me and I felt bad, so I went out with you out of pity. That’s all it ever was.”

_“I love you, okay?” Is what he manages. Those words being the most important thing he can think of. Without pulling away, Kyle opens his eyes and gazes fiercely into Kenny’s. Unwavering green meeting confused and concerned blue. “Promise me you won’t ever forget that?”_

_Kenny doesn’t answer, just nods and holds him a little tighter._

“You’re lying,” Kenny chokes, but despite his words his voice is small and he suddenly sounds a little unsure.

And in that moment, Kyle almost changes his mind. This was too much, too far, he couldn’t hurt him like this.

But he had to.

He stands.

“Believe what you want,” he says taking the first step away from Kenny who was staring up at him from the bench. “But it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry.”

Kenny quickly stands up after him.

“Ky, please.” His tone is filled with quiet desperation and despite everything, Kyle freezes in his tracks. “Don’t do this.”

_Kyle is the first to let go._

“Goodbye, Kenny.”

And then he turns and walks away before Kenny can notice that he’s crying, thinking all the while that the heartbroken expression on Kenny’s face might just haunt him for the rest of his life.

Later that night, Kyle is wide awake when he hears the familiar sound of tapping on his window. Only this time he doesn’t answer. Just squinches his eyes shut through the tears and pretends to be asleep until the sound eventually subsides.

And the next day, Kenny is gone.

For several days after, Kyle doesn’t sleep. Instead he spends his nights staring out his window over at the McCormick house like he used to when he was younger. Past the railroad tracks, to a world that was just a little different then the one that he knew.

He hopes that someday after Kenny found what he was looking for, he’d somehow find his way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this, please don't hate me ;;n;;


	6. Secret Dating

_-Age 20-_

Kyle really doesn't like the city.

It is a fact that he very quickly realized the moment he’d started living in one for college. From his spot sitting in the booth of some small coffee shop, he rests his head in the palm of his hand and stares out at it from the window.

All his life he’d always wanted to get away from South Park, yet this wasn’t really what he had in mind. Or at least was nothing like he’d imagined it would be. The buildings were tall and blocked out most of the horizon, always burying the dirty streets in shadow. Giving off the illusion of massive walls instead of anything that might resemble freedom. It was like a concrete prison where nothing could be seen beyond the infrastructure.

“Um hey, I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Kyle looks back over to the guy he’d mentally dubbed ‘Blondie’ who’d taken it upon himself to sit in the seat across from him. He had introduced himself of course, but Kyle hadn’t really cared enough to pay attention. Now it would be a bit too rude to ask him for his name again after he’d been prattling on about everything having do with his life for the past twenty minutes. Sports he was into. Where he was from. How he felt about their school. Apparently, it just so happened that Blondie happened to be in one of his classes, and had recognized Kyle when he’d entered the small coffee shop where he’d been sitting alone. Just his dumb luck.

Still, Kyle doesn’t exactly have anything better to do, since Stan had apparently decided to be about a half hour late. So he shakes his head no to his question, prompting the guy to continue bragging about his stupid life.

Kyle lets out a quiet sigh.

If he was being honest, Blondie was decently attractive, at least from an objective standpoint. True to Kyle’s nickname, he had blond hair that framed his tanned face nicely, the strands looking tinged with a bit of gold. His eyes were a pale blue, and he dressed nicely. Name brand clothes that spoke of a decent upbringing, yet weren’t worn in a way that would be considered flashy. And granted, he did also have a nice smile.

He was just…so _dull_.

Kyle really just wishes that Stan would get his ass over here already.

“So uh,” Blondie suddenly switches his tone to something that seems almost nervous, which successfully catches Kyle’s attention. “I was wondering if maybe we could exchange numbers? You know, and maybe we could go out sometime?”

Kyle immediately shakes his head. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he says a bit dejectedly, before a moment passes in awkward silence. He gives Kyle a curt smile, before starting to slide from the booth. “Well uh, I should probably go. But I guess I’ll see you in class then?”

Kyle just nods politely.

He watches Blondie walk a little too quickly from the coffee shop, passing a very familiar face who had been sitting approximately a table away from them. Likely watching the entire thing go down, if the way he immediately got up to move to Kyle’s table was any indication.

Narrowing his gaze, Kyle glares up at Stan as he walks over to him with clear amusement in his expression.

“You know, one day I’d really like to meet this secret boyfriend of yours,” Stan says sliding into the booth that Blondie had occupied only moments prior.

“Shut up, Stan.” Kyle crosses his arms, making sure to get across his annoyance. “You know you could have cut in at any time.”

Stan shrugs. “He looked like your type so I figured I’d give the poor guy a chance.” He pauses, amused smile falling into a frown before he shakes his head with a long sigh. “Dude, you do realize that you’ve been using the same excuse for years. You’re going to have to drop the act eventually.”

Kyle stiffens. Stan was normally someone he could depend on not to bring things up like this. Although, clearly even he’d had just about enough. When he responds, Kyle makes sure to keep his tone defensive, not wanting to show what was sitting just under the surface.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to go out with any of these people?”

But Stan was relentless. They’d been best friends for a long time and he wasn’t going to be fooled so easily.

“Okay yeah, sure,” Stan says, voice firm but not harsh. “And what about that one girl that Wendy spent about a week convincing to ask you out just because you said she was pretty? You didn’t even give her a shot, dude.”

Kyle crumples slightly. “...Her voice was annoying.”

Stan offers him a truly pitiful look.

“Kyle,” he says, tone turning surprisingly gentle. “We haven’t seen him in years. He’s not coming back.”

And there it was. The final shattering of the unspoken rule between the two of them, the one that said they didn’t outright talk about Kenny. It was easier that way. Kyle swallows down a sudden lump in his throat.

“That’s not…” he trails off, because of course he was the reason. Even if Kenny hated him after everything he’d said to hurt him, he couldn’t move on until he was sure. Hell, maybe even then he wouldn’t. Kenny McCormick was unlike anyone he had ever met. And he knew he’d never meet anyone like him again.

They were just facts.

Kyle takes a deep breath. “We’ve been away for a while, he could have returned home for all we know.”

“Kyle,” Stan says just as gently as before. As if he was giving bad news to a child. “Even if he did come back, things wouldn’t-“

“I know.” Kyle cuts him off, tone hard. Because of course things wouldn’t be the same. How could they be? Didn't mean he wanted to think about it. Just because he didn’t like to talk about it didn’t mean that it wasn’t on his mind every second of every damn day. He shakes his head, rising from the little corner booth. “I don’t feel like dealing with this right now, I’m leaving.”

“Dude, are you serious?” Stan says, watching him stand incredulously. Kyle ignores him, not trusting his voice to speak as he hurries away from the table. “I just got here! Really?!”

The door closing behind him shuts out Stan’s voice.

Kyle takes a deep breath, allowing the cool autumn air to enter his lungs.

Then he just starts walking.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind, not really. Just needs a chance to clear his head. To get the feeling that he’s going somewhere, moving towards something, even when in reality he knew that he was just as stuck as before. Even though he didn’t even want to go anywhere. Was perfectly content to wallow away his days in different stages of sulking. Stages of waiting.

If he stopped waiting, then that would be like giving up. And Kyle wasn’t giving up just yet.

Eventually, his feet lead him into the park. A spark of green and color in a grayscale city. A lake sitting in the middle of the small area filled with a playground and a handful of trees. Not as big as Stark’s Pond, but large enough that a few families of ducks called the little body of water home.

As he walks, he passes by a couple holding hands and sitting side by side on a park bench. The two of them gazing out at the lake.

Kyle quickly looks away.

The funny thing was, in the beginning things were actually somewhat easier. Easier to deal with, that is. A part of him thinking, hoping, that a couple months would pass and then he’d get the message from his parents or even Kenny himself that he was back home and looking for him. But no message ever came.

Then a year passed.

And then it was two years.

If anyone had seen Kenny, they sure hadn’t told Kyle. Not that he even deserved to know. Still…

Still, at some point, it had occurred to him that home might not be what he thought it was. That maybe all along that had really been what Kenny was searching for. A permanent safe place. Somewhere he could settle down. Fall in love. Paint sunrises while his lover sprawled out beside him on some balcony high above the ground.

That maybe Stan was right. Maybe Kenny wasn’t ever coming back.

Kyle stops and takes a deep and shaky breath.

Then he continues forward.

Eventually, he walks out of the park and back onto the city streets. This one happening to be a bit more crowded, with people bumping into him on their rush to get to wherever they were going. A sea of faces, not a single one of them familiar. Surrounded by people, yet completely alone.

He speeds up his steps until he turns down a side street.

Separated from the rest of the crowd, he notices two girls gossiping with each other in front of a little corner store. As he passes them, he catches onto their words mid-conversation.

“I was practically throwing myself at him.” The one girl says to the other. “And he was clearly interested.”

“And he still said no?”

“Yeah, he said he was waiting for someone to come around or some shit.” She exhales a slightly dreamy sigh. “What I would give for a man with that much loyalty.”

Then Kyle turns a corner and their voices once again fade into the backdrop.

The sky above him is lined with the telltale orange of sunset, and when he drops his gaze it lands directly on the structure of an abandoned building. And for a reason he can’t quite discern, the sight of it makes him stop in his tracks. A little ‘For Rent’ sign sits out front, but it was clear that if hadn’t been used in quite a while. It was more than a little underkept, yet the decrepit structure was achingly familiar in a way that he missed. Reminding him of long spent nights looking over railroad tracks. Reminding him of his childhood and looking for an orange blob of a boy.

Reminding him of home.

Kyle eyes it, and before he knows it he just starts climbing.

He lifts himself onto the side of the building, and using ledges on windows and pipelines, manages to reach the rooftop. It’s nothing graceful, but he makes it by sheer force of determination. At the end he hauls himself over the side and then just sits there trying to catch his breath for a few moments.

Then he looks up.

The sun is setting over the cityscape, the sky an achingly familiar orange hue that reminds him of a thousand memories. Of a childhood filled with dreams that hadn’t yet been crushed by reality. Of horizons that had seemed so hopeful, and paintings that had said more than words ever could. Of a boy with sky blue eyes who’d stood beside him on the top of Sodosopa as they gazed at a sky just like this one.

_“It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”_

It really was.

The sky turns hazy through a film of tears and Kyle does his best to blink them away, feeling closer to Kenny then he had in a long time. And for a moment, Kyle wonders if Kenny was out there looking at the very same sky, thinking about him too.

It was a stupid thought, yet it was also comforting in a way. The same way the thought of traveling had been comforting, once upon a time. It’d taken him a while to truly realize that he’d stopped wanting to travel for himself a long time ago.

Either way, wherever Kenny was out there, Kyle just hopes that he’s happy.


	7. Presents

_-Age 22-_

The days just keep passing in shades of monotone and gray.

Things don’t get worse, but they also don’t get better. The memory of Kenny McCormick becoming more and more distant with the counting of the days, haunting Kyle yet providing him with nothing new to latch onto. Only the thought of his heartbroken expression contrasted with the memories of everything that they used to have. Back when they were happy.

It hurt sometimes to think about.

“You know,” Stan says to him one day while they both worked on their respective classwork in the library. “There’s this new artist that just popped up, and I really think you should check out their stuff.”

Kyle raises a brow. “What, are you following art blogs now?”

“No, but Wendy does.” He shrugs. “I’ll forward you the link.”

Kyle doesn’t think too much of it. Not until later that night, when boredom sinks in and he takes a break from his pre-law books to open up the link.

What he finds is a gallery of paintings.

Each and every one a construct of pure indescribable feeling. Of nostalgia, and something so achingly familiar that it shakes Kyle to his core. They’re beautiful. Every paint stroke bleeding with vulnerability and a softness that’s only disguised by the use of darker shades overlapping them.

He clicks through them for hours, breaking away only to wipe away the tears that every so often fill his eyes without him even noticing. The artist themself is anonymous, only listing a letter and a number as a pseudonym and exclusively selling online. No name. Just two useless characters to explain to him exactly who this mysterious artist who changes his life is.

And Kyle’s life does change after that.

Nothing especially drastic. But he finds himself quickly joining the ranks of the artist’s moderate amount of followers. Checking the page religiously, as if it was the most important thing in his life. Hell, maybe it was. And after a while he finds it a bit easier to smile, feeling as if the world wasn’t quite so dark anymore.

Even Stan notices his change in mood. Not that he outright comments on it, but Kyle notices the relieved looks he receives when he starts laughing again like he used to. Stops being quite so cynical. Finds passion in something for the first time in years.

Stan’s apparently so relieved that he even deals with all of Kyle’s constant gushing over it. Offering little to no input, but allowing him to endlessly go on about the art style as well as the content contained in each and every image. He hadn’t realized his best friend had been that worried about him, but apparently he had been.

One day, without preamble, Stan shows up to their weekly meet-up with a small gift-wrapped box in his hands. He unceremoniously hands it over to Kyle before sliding into the seat across from him.

“What’s this?” Kyle asks, eyeing it in confusion.

“An early birthday present. Open it.”

After shooting him a skeptical look, considering his birthday was literal months away, Kyle complies. And when he does, he’s left even more confused as before as he stares down at what were apparently two plane tickets to Chicago.

Kyle flicks his baffled gaze to Stan and his best friend grins.

“That artist you like so much is going to have a table set up at an Art Fair in Chicago,” he explains and Kyle’s eyes widen as his words sink in. Stan’s smile widens knowingly as he rhetorically asks, “Did you wanna meet them?”

Without another word Kyle jumps up and hugs Stan, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Stan’s clearly surprised, but he returns the action anyway.

“Thank you,” he tells him, meaning it.

***

The entire plane ride to Chicago, Kyle can’t stop shaking. His heart is pounding in a combination of nerves and anxiety, and pure excitement lines his every cell.

“Dude, chill,” Stan says, laughing at him when he almost drops his phone for the fifth time.

But it’s hard to settle down, and Kyle’s not even really sure why. It’s as if his subconscious knows something that he himself can’t really comprehend. Or maybe it’s just hoping for something. Wishing. Wanting. Things that Kyle hasn’t allowed himself to feel in a while.

It was just easier not to.

And of course, when nearly a day later when they do finally get to the fair, the feeling only intensifies. Fraying his nerves in a way he’s unaccustomed to. As it turns out, the fair is an event much larger then he had expected, with different types of artists and their stands lining the street until they went so far as to fade in his line of vision. There’s music and food, and a crowd of people so thick that he can barely see anything.

He swallows.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

But before he can dwell on that, Stan is suddenly ushering him through the crowd. “Oh no,” he tells him as if sensing his hesitation, “You’re not bailing out on me now.”

Ignoring Kyle’s protests, Stan continues to drag him through the fair as if on a mission, before practically shoving him in front of a stand. More than a bit taken aback, Kyle rubs his now sore arm with a muttered curse before looking at the stand before him. And in doing so, he realizes that he’s suddenly face to face with the very same art he’d been obsessing over. The very reason they were there in the first place.

“How did you-“

But the words die in his throat, his heart stuttering to a stop.

Because the moment he turns around, it’s not Stan who he’s met with. Instead, it's a blond haired boy who looks as if he’d been about to say something himself, lips parted in silent words, yet had ended up freezing in his tracks. Instead opting to stare at every inch of Kyle as if he can’t quite believe it’s him. Sky blue eyes comparing him to what he remembered. Or maybe just committing him to memory. As if he might never get the chance to again.

Kyle knows the feeling. He’d almost convinced himself that he’d never see him again, and yet here he was, practically unchanged. Had it really only been four years? It had felt like an eternity.

“Kenny…” Kyle breathes.

“Kyle,” He finally manages as if Kyle’s dazed annunciation of his name had snapped him out of his trance. Looking up to meet his eyes, one corner of his lip tilts up in a sad little mock of a smile. Not looking at him in surprise, but as if waiting for some type of reaction.

Everything suddenly adds up.

The feeling he’d had deep inside his gut the entire way coming here. Fighting the knowledge, the hope, of the truth that’d he’d known. That the artist’s work had affected him so much because it _was_ Kenny. Every beautiful paint stroke had been him. Every single view of the world had been like peering into Kenny’s soul just as it always had been.

And it hadn’t been Wendy who had sent Stan that link.

No wonder Stan had been so adamant about all this. He briefly wonders for just how long he’d been in contact with Kenny and why the hell he didn’t even think to tell him. Then again, there was really nothing he could do if Kenny wasn’t ready to be found.

Well, wasn’t ready to be found until now.

“It’s you,” Kyle finally voices shakily, eyes giving a meaningful flicker to the display of paintings before latching back onto the blond in front of him.

“Surprised?” Kenny asks, lip curling into something a little bitter, eyes turning cold as if shutting out any emotions he might have been feeling.

Kyle’s heart hurts at the sight, but it’s not like he’d ever have expected a warm reunion. Not even in his dreams.

He shakes his head. “I think deep down I knew. I just couldn’t quite believe it.”

“Well this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Kenny’s tone is as cold as his eyes. “For me to become successful? That’s why you decided to break my heart.”

Kyle flinches.

Of course, Kenny had figured it out.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he offers weakly.

Kenny scoffs. “You could have asked me what I fucking wanted. That would have been a start.”

Still, Kyle shakes his head. He might have hated himself for what he did, but he didn’t regret it. Maybe would have gone about it a bit differently, but the result would have been the same.

“I couldn’t let you figure it out,” he tells him, tone somber but firm. “You never would have left.”

“Maybe I didn’t _want_ to.” Kenny says, and he might as well have punched him. Because the thought had honestly never occurred to Kyle that Kenny might not have wanted to travel. After all, it was all he had painted and what he’d always seemed to regard with so much hope and longing. But before Kyle can even think of a way to respond, Kenny seems to deflate with a deep sigh. “I didn’t bring you here to fight.”

“Then why did you?” He says softly, voice almost inaudible over the sound of the still bustling crowd.

To Kyle’s astonishment, a bit of warmth enters Kenny’s gaze, and he smiles weakly. “Well, law student Broflovski, why don’t you take a wild guess?”

Hope digs itself out from somewhere deep within his chest, a weak and dying thing that he’d almost forgotten existed.

“You don’t hate me?” Kyle chokes, bordering on tears.

Kenny immediately steps forward and reaches out a hand towards him, before he seems to think better of it and it falls back to his side. Still, his eyes soften, regarding him almost fondly.

“Ky, I could never hate you," he says, tone gentle. “I mean, I’m still pretty damn pissed. I might understand why you did it but it doesn’t change that what you said hurt like hell. But dude, it’s been four years and I’m tired of being mad about it.” With that he pauses, breathing out a tired sigh, as if even this conversation was draining him. Then, as if flicking a switch, he suddenly shoots him a crooked grin with just a hint of mischief, “Although you’re totally going to have to make it up to me big time before I can even consider actually forgiving you.” He looks away, grin once again falling. “...Though from what Stan’s told me, you haven’t been having such a great time yourself.”

Kyle nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Kenny, I really am sorry.” His voice breaks. “For everything.”

For a moment, Kenny just looks at him. As if considering something. Then he smiles, a beautiful thing that reaches his eyes and makes his whole presence glow. The sight of it is nearly enough to bring Kyle to his knees.

“Come on,” Kenny says, holding out a hand. “I want to show you something.”

Without hesitating, Kyle firmly takes it within his own. The feel of it warm and familiar, even though one of them is clearly shaking. He can’t even tell that it’s him until Kenny gives his hand a reassuring squeeze before tugging him back behind his little table set up and to the tent sitting behind it.

Kyle is so preoccupied with the feel of Kenny’s hand in his, that it isn’t until he releases it that Kyle takes in exactly what he’d wanted to show him.

His breath catches.

Standing before him, lining the walls of the little structure and leaning against each other on the ground are a few dozen paintings of his house. All from the same view, the side with his window from spot of the world on the other side of the train tracks. Each one displaying a different time of day, a different shade of the sky, yet all portraying one staggering feeling. Aurating it so strongly that Kyle’s heart clenches within his chest.

Longing.

“I was never very good at drawing people,” Kenny speaks up from beside him, looking over at Kyle with that same feeling reflected in his gaze. “This was as close as I could get.”

“They’re beautiful,” Kyle chokes, unsure of what else he could possibly say.

Kenny nods as if he agrees. “They’re all I wanted to paint,” he admits. “Everything else out there, that’s all for you.” He pauses, finally tearing his eyes away from Kyle to glance towards his stand with the multiple landscape paintings which a few onlookers were gazing at appreciatively. When he next speaks, his tone holds all the softness of a confession. “I stopped drawing them for myself a long time ago.”

“...After a while,” Kyle begins once he trusts himself to form words again, “the only reason I wanted to travel was for you.”

They meet each other’s eyes. A world of understanding passing between them. Two dumb kids who’d had wild imaginings of freedom and a better life; yet, what they hadn’t realized was that escape wasn’t really needed when they were together. Why had it taken so long to realize that?

Suddenly Kenny laughs, the sound real and familiar, without a doubt one of the most beautiful things Kyle has ever heard.

God he missed that sound.

“We were idiots,” Kyle says, truly smiling for the first time in far too long.

“You were the bigger dumbass,” Kenny points out. “Then again, you do some dumbass things when you’re young and in love.”

Kyle meets his eyes again, and for a moment it’s like they’re back at the beginning. Back before these horrible four years apart. Back before Kyle went and intentionally broke the most important thing in his life. Back when he was young, and stupidly, irrevocably in love.

Then again, some things never really changed.

“Yeah,” he says slowly, before taking a deep breath that would lead him to the most important truth he could say. “Kenny, I love you. I never _stopped_ loving you. I-”

“I know,” Kenny succeeds in cutting him off with two softly said words. He bites his lip before looking down somewhat nervously. “I learned a lot when I was on the road, Ky. Saw a lot of things, met a lot of people. And they were some of the best days of my life, but no matter where I went I always felt…”

He trails off, looking incredibly small. The way he always used to look whenever he was unsure about something and didn’t have his parka to hide away into.

“Lost?” Kyle supplies for him, taking a reflexive step towards him. When Kenny just nods and doesn’t immediately back away, Kyle continues with another step. “Alone? Like you could just fucking vanish and no one would even care?”

Tears finally seem to well up in Kenny’s eyes as he quickly nods again with a small little smile.

“But that’s why we gotta stick together,” he voices quietly, a reflection of the same words he’d once muttered a lifetime ago. “Remember?”

Kyle does, but he no longer trusts his voice to speak so he just holds out his arms in offering. Kenny eyes them for a moment, before he makes a noise like a wounded animal and lurches forward, crushing Kyle into a tight hug. Kyle returns it just as fiercely, burying his face into his hair and just breathing in. They remain that way for a while, relishing in the closeness that they’d both been missing for far too long.

Kenny is the first to pull back. Although he doesn’t go far, choosing to keep his arms linked around Kyle’s neck. Then his gaze flickers to his lips, something almost contemplative in his expression as if thinking something through. Kyle lets him, Knowing exactly what he was thinking, but letting Kenny make the decision even with as much as he wanted to close the gap between them.

Then, slowly, Kenny leans up and kisses him.

It starts out gentle. Kenny setting the pace and Kyle just going along with whatever he wanted, perfectly content to lose himself in the familiar taste and feeling. But then Kenny’s motions turn more passionate, more eager. Pressing forward with a quiet desperation as if he’s been dying and Kyle is the last real thing in the universe.

Kyle knows the feeling.

Somewhere along the line, Kyle backs Kenny up through the entrance of the tent until he hits his table. Without breaking the kiss, the blond hops up onto it, knocking paintings to the side and successfully ruining his display in the process. If he’s bothered in the least he sure doesn’t show it, just clutches Kyle closer as if he might drown if he doesn’t.

And somewhere a million miles away Kyle is vaguely aware of the crowd of onlookers all muttering and hovering around them in different stages of disbelief. He couldn’t give two shits.

There was still a lot that they would need to talk out. A lot that Kyle would need to do to earn Kenny’s forgiveness after all that he did. And a lot he would need to do before he could forgive himself. But there would be time for that.

For now, this was everything he had been searching for.

And they were both finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so that's it :) K2 week is over, and it's been great!  
> I want to take a moment to thank every single person who commented or left kudos, it's been fun guys. And I know I kinda shook a lot of people with the angst, but I hope that the ending made it at least worth it in the end<3  
> Oh and also, I wrote most of this to Vienna Teng - Antebellum which ended up setting the tone of this fic and so I highly recommend checking it out.


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